Aurora's Light
by Chickenwire Suicide
Summary: Lyra and Pantalaimon have returned to Jordan College, still grieving from the loss of Will and Kirjava. Alone and in pain, they are completely unprepared for the circumstances that befall them...Please R&R!
1. Prologue

Hey everybody. My name's Aislinn and this is my first fic. I love HDM, and have always wanted to write my own version of what happens to Lyra and Will. I'm 14 and live in Victoria, BC. I hope everybody likes this fic, and please review! Comments and CC much appreciated, but I might have to bite you if you flame me.  
  
nb. All characters and places from Philip Pullman's books are (of course) © Philip Pullman. Any new characters and places, as well as the situations that all of these characters are put in, are © me. Stealing, copying or otherwise plagiarising my work will result in many bites.  
  
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The Oxford air was thick with smog and ash that hung heavy over the vast expanse of winding alleys and canals. The moon was hidden behind choking, suffocating clouds, throwing the land below into the darkness of the night. The only light cast was from the streetlights, the yellow anbaric beams flickering every so often, threatening to go out. Shadows moved, footsteps echoed, and somewhere in the darkness, a child wailed, its daemon wailing with it. What they were crying for, no one knew, but the eerie sounds penetrated the stillness. A testament to a dying world.  
  
Somehow, Jordan College seemed removed from the squalor that enveloped the rest of the area. The buildings, all of different sizes and shapes, stood clumped together like some modern Stonehenge, arranged carelessly and in no particular pattern. Time had weathered the stone, turned it ragged with age, but the elegance of the College had not been completely diminished. It was still there, if only a shadow of what it had once been.  
  
Jordan was dark and still, no movement coming from anywhere within or around the College. There was only one light on, a dim glimmer coming from a small attic window, high up in one of the taller buildings. Anyone who had been there to witness that light may have thought it strange, that anyone would be up so late, but no one was there. In that small, cramped attic room, seated on her bed staring blankly at the wall, Lyra was unnoticed. Alone.  
  
Her arms were folded about herself, her knees drawn up against her chest, and she was rocking herself gently. Her eyes, grey and empty, were full of tears that refused to fall. No matter how much it hurt, she couldn't cry. She couldn't give in to the sobs that threatened to wrack her slight frame. Sorrow had eaten away at her, but she wouldn't allow it to consume her. Never. She shuddered, and pressed her face against her knees, her golden hair flowing down her shoulders as if protecting her from the dank, cold night. She felt so alone.  
  
And yet she was not alone. Pressed against her, warm and soft and full of love, was Pantalaimon. Her dear, her heart, her soul. She uncurled from her fetal position, allowing him to flow up her shoulder to wrap his pine marten form tightly about her neck, murmuring soft affectations of love and devotion and comfort. How dear he was to her. What would she ever do without him? They had been through so much together...spying on the Scholars in the Retiring Room, going north with the gyptians, nearly being cut apart by the Gobblers at Bolvangar, walking through the sky into another world, leaving each other behind to venture down into the Underworld, and...losing Will and Kirjava.  
  
A fresh pain stabbed at her heart, and she whimpered softly. The agony was killing her. Pan pressed against her, sharing in her pain. It was his pain too. She knew that, knew that he missed Kirjava as much as she missed Will. Her pine marten daemon loved the beautiful, inky black cat, just as Lyra loved Will. Her Will. Her only. She sobbed softly, and bit her tongue firmly to keep from crying. Blood and bile filled her mouth, but she refused to give in to the tears.  
  
"Lyra...Lyra..." Pan was nuzzling her, licking her face with his little tongue, trying his best to comfort her although he, too, was suffering.  
  
"Oh God, Pan..." she whispered, her voice hoarse with pain. "I miss them so much! And I thought it'd be easy, 'cause I knew we was doing the right thing, but now...now it just hurts!"  
  
"We did do the right thing," he replied fiercely. "We did what we had to do. We couldn't live in their world, and they couldn't live in ours!"  
  
"And if Will used the knife to come and see us, there'd just be more Spectres made. I know, Pan. I know all that! But it doesn't make it any better!"  
  
His only reply was to press himself even more firmly against her, shaking with silent agony. She unwrapped him gently from about her neck, cuddling him in her arms and pressing him against her breast so that their hearts beat like one entity. She said nothing, and no more words passed between them. They sat silently together, sharing in the grief and love that united them.  
  
Lyra knew Pan was right. Giving up Will and his Kirjava had been the hardest thing that they had ever done, but it had been the right thing. They couldn't be selfish, thinking of only themselves and their happiness. They had to think about the whole world, about everyone they cared for. The Master and Scholars at Jordan, Mary Malone from Will's world, Serafina Pekkala and her witches, Iorek Byrnison, John Faa and Farder Coram, everyone they had ever loved and been loved by. But it hurt, it hurt so unfairly that sometimes Lyra thought it would kill them.  
  
Returning to Jordan after letting go of Will had almost been too painful for Lyra to bear. Still, she knew in her heart that it was where she belonged. It was this knowledge that had caused her to leave Dame Hannah Relf's school after only a few months. As much as she may have liked to stay with the other girls and learn, hearing of their romances and their easy, painless lives was too much for her. At least here at Jordan among the Scholars, she didn't have to face the memories that the outside world brought her. Memories of Will. Memories of what she might have had.  
  
Leaving Dame Hannah's school had also meant that her studies of the alethiometer had ended. Dame Hannah had proven to be very knowledgeable about the strange, truth-reading instrument, and Lyra had gained quite a bit of ground while studying with her. Now, though, she was without both Dame Hannah's expertise and the books of reading, and she could barely ask the alethiometer even the most simple questions. The natural grace with which she had read the instrument was lost to her, maybe forever. But it didn't matter. The alethiometer sat on her rickety bedside table, held inside the familiar black velvet bag, untouched.  
  
"Pan..." she murmured. "Pan?"  
  
No answer came. Her daemon was fast asleep, still trembling unhappily in his dreams. Lyra sighed and snuggled down with him on the bed, pulling the threadbare covers over them both. Weariness plagued her, driving away her grief and pain like some miraculous drug. She knew that it wouldn't last, that the minute she woke up without Will beside her, the hurt would return and threaten to drive her mad once again. But for now, the sweet emptiness of sleep was all she wanted. For now, it was enough.  
  
Lyra turned off the light and lay back on the narrow bed, closing her eyes. Within moments, she was floating on the euphoria of dreamless sleep. In sleep, she looked as innocent, stubborn and wild as she had not two years before. It was as though all the cares, woes and pain of her adventures had been lifted from her. It was as though, in that moment, she was her old self. Oblivious to all around her, Lyra slept.  
  
From outside the window, a large black bird watched the two sleeping figures. It was a raven, but a raven of no ordinary size, easily twice the size of any other of its species. It gazed intently at the girl and her pine marten daemon and clacked its beak. It watched for a moment more, before spreading its great wings and gliding off into the night as silently as it had come. 


	2. Midnight Fens

Sorry it's taken me so long to update! *thwacks Fanfiction* 'Snot my fault! Really! It wouldn't let me log in! Grrrr...Anyways, here's Chapter 2, well, technically Chapter 1 because the last one was the prologue but WE WON'T GET HUNG UP ON THAT!  
  
Thanks to my sole reviewer, Eco Warrior. Always nice to know that I have a reader. ( Cheers also to Yuumeibakanomiko, cause I know you meant to. *shnurgs the Yuumsters, for that is now officially her name*  
  
Enjoy, and please review.  
  
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Far from the sprawling expanse of Oxford and Jordan College, the Fens slept like some great primeval animal, silent and still. Flickering lights cast from crackling marsh fires drifted across the dank green water, illuminating the scraggly weeds and the few eels that dared to swim near the surface. They saw nothing, not even what lay right before them. Sightless, mindless, the eels drifted about in the murky water without a care in the world. Their flat eyes, pallid and soulless, saw nothing in the dim gloom, not even the large wooden building that rose out of the marshes.  
  
Like Jordan College itself, the Zaal had been a wondrous construction in its younger days. It had been grand and magnificent in the way a gyptian meeting place should be, carved not from stone, but from the finest hardwoods, by the finest craftsmen. Long had the massive building protected the river-dwellers, sheltering them not only from the elements, but from the prejudices they faced in the outside world. This realm of marsh, bog and fen was the land of the gyptians, the one place in Britain that they could truly lay claim to. They travelled the rivers and canals by right, but this place was their home.  
  
The Zaal was usually alive and bustling, full of gyptians here for a Roping, or gathering, or simply here to meet up with old friends. On any given day, you could stand on the docks outside the Zaal, look around you, and see nothing but narrowboats, brightly painted and beautiful, each one carrying its own family and its own history. The air was always filled with laughter, gossip and the squawking, meowing and barking of daemons. But not so on this night. The wooden docks were bare save for no more then fifteen narrowboats. There was no laughter, no talking, not even the sound of the water lapping up against the sides of the narrowboats. The Fens were silent.  
  
Inside the Zaal, a scant few naphtha lamps burned, casting dim light over the long wooden table that sat on a raised platform in the middle of the great meeting house. Seated at the table, John Faa ran a hand through his thinning hair as he looked about him. His keen, hooded eyes swept over the peeling walls, once gaily painted, the thick ceiling timbers beginning to rot and split, the dust covered chairs on the open floor that had once been clean and polished. Heaving a heavy, tired sigh, he turned back to the other figures seated around the table.  
  
"Well, here we are," he said slowly, his crow daemon Hytathen cawing softly from his shoulder. "I must say that I had expected more than this, but this is what we have."  
  
All they had, he reflected as he looked around the table. Most musters were accompanied by the arrival of upwards of a hundred narrowboats. Now, only these few families had answered his call to gather. The others, who knew where they were? Times were so uncertain now, with the Church struggling to maintain its power, the Colleges drawing farther and farther away from the rest of the world to toy with their precious theological instruments, the witches and bears lost in their own conflicts, not to mention a good deal of other things that no honest gyptian ought to be bothering himself with. And yet here he was, John Faa, Lord of the Western Gyptians, meddling once more in matters that didn't concern him.  
  
Which wasn't entirely true, he reminded himself. The matters that he had brought his people together to discuss were important to him, and to the gyptian people. He had to stop doubting himself. John Faa pulled himself from his thoughts, aware that one of the men was speaking. It was Adam Stefanski, a great bear of a man, and one of John Faa's closest allies. He had known he could count on Adam and his family to answer the call.  
  
"Well, Lord Faa, you'll excuse me for saying, but your call to muster has come at rather a strange time. It's the winter, and most of our folk have gone south and moored up in ports down there. Some of 'em are snowed in, of all things, so it don't really surprise me that it's only us who've come."  
  
"I thank you, Adam," Lord Faa replied. "And you're right. What you say is true, though I hadn't considered it before. This is a strange time to be mustering, but what I have to say couldn't wait to be said. So I must thank you all for a-coming here to hear what I'm about to say. I daresay it will be a matter that will raise a lot of questions, so I must ask you to let me speak my piece before the discussion starts."  
  
There were murmurs and nods of assent from around the table. John Faa nodded and took a deep breath before continuing.  
  
"Well now. Over the past few weeks, we've been a-hearing word from contacts we've got down south, see. Contacts in Oxford and London have been sending messages, all saying the same thing. They've been saying that...that children are starting to disappear."  
  
There was a huge intake of breath from around the table. Eyes went wide with shock and disbelief, and for a moment, there was absolute silence. Then the uproar started. The men were on their feet, demanding to know what was going on. The women begged with Lord Faa to explain. One question was in the minds of every gyptian present. Were their children at risk? Panicked cries and outraged roars filled the room. John Faa had to bang his clenched fists on the table before the thirty or so of his people in the huge room quieted down.  
  
"Please, friends! There's no cause for alarm just now! I know what most of you are a-thinking, and let me assure you, this is by no means as serious as the hundreds of disappearances several years ago. But it could become every bit as serious, which is why I've a-called you together. So please, sit down and let me continue!"  
  
When everyone had taken their seats, and the room was quiet once more, John Faa picked up where he had left off. "As I was saying, children are starting to disappear. Now, we've a-called you here to give you the few details we have. Farder Coram here has been the man doing most of the correspondence with our contacts, so he's a-gonna tell us more."  
  
All eyes in the room turned to the frail old man seated at John Faa's right hand. Farder Coram sat, withered and bent backed, with his incredibly beautiful cat daemon in his lap, her autumn coloured fur shining and lustrous. With one gnarled hand, he stroked Sophonax between the ears, and with the other, he held himself upright in his chair. His blue eyes were exceedingly piercing and wise, and contained a youthfulness in them that seemed out of place with the rest of him.  
  
"Thank you, John," he said, his deep, gravely voice hoarse with age. "This is what we know so far. As John was telling us, there have been several disappearances in Oxford, and in London too. The children have been taken from impoverished areas only. That's why we're more then certain that this en't the doing of any sort of reincarnation of the Oblation Board. When they was kidnapping kids, they took 'em from everywhere and everyone. Whoever's doing the kidnapping now is being far more careful, as we see it. I guess they figure that no one's gonna miss a few beggar children."  
  
A tall young man with jet black hair stood up, looking to John Faa for permission to speak. The gyptian lord nodded, and the young man's baritone voice spilled forward. "Thank you, Lord Faa. I'm just wondering, Lord Faa, Farder Coram, what implications this turn of events has for us gyptians. I mean, has there been any gyptian kids taken? Not to say that the landloper kids are any less important then ours, a course, but...I'm sure you both know that the last time things like this started happening, it weren't easy on our people. Why, my own brother were taken by them Gobblers. I'm just wondering...how worried about this should we be?"  
  
He took his seat, his brown eyes dark with worry, his forehead creased with worry. His hawk daemon shifted from foot to foot on his shoulder, her dusky brown feathers ruffling. The pupils dilated in her tawny eyes and she shook herself, bending down to nibble affectionately on the young man's ear.  
  
John Faa shook his head. "No, Tony, you're not wrong in asking such a question. I appreciate how hard it was on you, on all of you, when the Gobblers started a-taking our kids last time round. I can assure you, with Farder Coram a-backing me up, that there's been no mention of the Gobblers, or the Oblation Board, or whatever you want to call them. If there was, you can be sure that I'd a-tell you."  
  
There were murmurs around the table. The gyptians were all bursting to ask the same question, and it was Tony's mother, a massive woman with hands like hamsteaks, who spoke ahead of all the others. "Begging your pardon, Lord Faa, Farder Coram, but if it en't the Gobblers taking these kids, then who's doing it?"  
  
It was Farder Coram who answered Ma Costa's question. "Now, Marie, that's what we don't know. We don't know who's been taking the kids, or what they've been doing with 'em. For all we know, it could be a coincidence. A few kids missing in London and Oxford, it's not really anything out of the ordinary, is it? I mean-"  
  
He had to stop as his skeletal frame was wracked by a violent coughing fit. His very bones seemed to shake as the harsh coughs tore themselves from his throat. He covered his mouth with a kerchief as the convulsions gripped him, and even after the racking coughs had subsided, it was obvious that his throat was very painful. For this reason, and without warning, his daemon sat up straight in Farder Coram's lap, her lapis lazuli eyes bright, and began to address the small assembly of gyptians.  
  
"We don't know whether or not these disappearances are related in any way. What we do know is the last time something like this began, it had already affected hundreds of families by the time we did something about it. No one wants that to happen again. The landloper police haven't done anything about this, or so our contacts have told us. Therefore, it falls to us to investigate what is happening before it engulfs all of Britain."  
  
Any objections were stopped by the fierce determination in Sophonax's eyes. The cat daemon's tail lashed with anger at the thought of the disappearances. "We need to know what is happening. We need to know it now. It may only be landloper children now, but who knows how long it will be before the kidnappers decide to start stealing gyptian young ones away?"  
  
She sat back in her soulmate's lap. Farder Coram had composed himself, and squeezed his daemon gently in thanks. John Faa stepped into the breach, picking up where his friend's daemon had stopped. "Farder Coram and his Sophonax are quite right, friends. We can't just sit back and let this a- happen. If the disappearances are unrelated, well then, that's one thing. But if they're linked in some way, well then, I know you'll all agree that we need to know. We'll be a-sending messengers to our people around the land, so everyone's on the alert for news of anything like this a- happening. We gyptians won't be a-caught unawares this time!"  
  
There were nods from around the table, approving murmurs coming along with them. The gyptians were beginning to feel roused to action, no longer fearful and panicked. This had happened before, and they had still won. They had gotten their children back from the kidnappers. This time they would be prepared. This time they would be ready.  
  
John Faa and Farder Coram exchanged glances. Both men were pleased at the reactions of their people. John Faa spoke up again, his booming voice quelling the chatter that had broken out in the huge room. "Well then, friends, I believe we're decided. We'll assemble a group to investigate what's been a-happening, we'll learn all we can about this disappearances, and we'll use what we discover to make a decision. Let's see a show of hands for all in favour."  
  
Every hand in the room was raised. John Faa nodded with satisfaction. "Right then. Let's a-get to work." 


End file.
